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by lalejandra



Category: lotrips
Genre: Aragorn - Freeform, Character Study, Gen, Transformative Works Welcome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-01-22
Updated: 2004-01-22
Packaged: 2019-07-14 19:44:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16047278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lalejandra/pseuds/lalejandra
Summary: It was clear that Aragorn was a man of many loves, and it's all there inside Viggo, ready and waiting to be let out.





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Viggo can't remember the last time he was on a set where so many people -- so many very beautiful people -- were celibate and sober for so much of the time. Liv could drink, but she was too homesick to leave her rooms, and Miranda could drink, but she rarely mingled with the rest of the cast. Of all his mates -- castmates, and production staff, and everyone -- he felt as though Miranda was the one he most empathized with. She was the outsider. She was, mostly, the only girl around -- Eowyn needed to stand up to the other characters the same way Aragorn needed to be able to command the others.

Viggo knew what that was like, to have to keep yourself aloof or subsume the character you were playing inside yourself. It was too bad though. He'd like to get her drunk, her and Liv, and shoot them. In black and white for class and subtlety, and in color, so they could be garish -- cold, pale limbs tangled together, long dark hair and long pale hair, pink mouths, wide eyes.

The shooting schedules are all different, so sometimes Viggo has a stretch of days when he's not needed, but usually that doesn't coincide with the Hobbits' time off, and he spends most of his time making sure that Aragorn never leaves him anyway, and that doesn't include sitting in a pub and getting drunk and drowsy on local beer. No, it's hiking and sleeping in the woods and going out on old Kiwi trails. Sometimes Orlando joins him, and Viggo figures it's better that way. Orlando is still young enough that when he gets drunk, he gets sloppy and silly, and bits of Legolas peek out. Orlando is still young enough that when he gets drunk, he sleeps with strippers and local girls -- and anyone he can, really, and Viggo is old enough that he doesn't really think that's a good idea, any of it.

Viggo thinks Orlando has a bit of a crush on him, and Viggo can understand that. He remembers being Orlando's age. He remembers being around people who were talented and had varied interests, and how much awe he had for them -- and he certainly remembers how awe easily translates into other feelings, especially when one is trying oh so hard to be cosmopolitan and suave.

But he and Orlando talk about the books, and Viggo can't quite remember how it came up -- maybe Orlando made a comment about the Elf prince and the King of Men and their less-than-kosher love? -- explained to Orlando that, according to Tolkien, Elves equated sex with marriage, and Legolas never married.

Orlando was celibate after that. Viggo knew, because Elijah thought it was funny, and so did everyone he told. Elijah didn't know why Orlando had stopped chasing the lush, big-breasted strippers and barmaids, but he knew they mourned the lack of him, and told everyone who would listen.

Elijah was one who could do with a little less alcohol and a little more common sense on his days off, but it was certainly not Viggo's place to point that out to him. He'd learn soon enough, and maybe what he needed was a harsh dose of reality from the press, or his sister. And Dom and Bill, Viggo was sure, learned the very first time that you don't fuck the one with whom you're sharing a tree and a blue screen for weeks at a time.

That's not to say that Viggo isn't tempted. Because he is. He's working with some of the most beautiful, alluring, and compelling people in the world. They all have their own sort of charisma; they all attract the attention of everyone, everywhere they go. Viggo can see it. He knows it. It's a quality he is familiar with -- not necessarily what one would call "star" quality, but it's something ineffable, something that has Viggo painting more than ever, taking more photographs of humans, dwarves, hobbits, and elves than he ever expected to. He doesn't quite want to dig into them and pull that out, and display it -- he wants to show that others cannot compare.

And Aragorn is, of course, drawn to everyone Viggo expected when he read the books. He saw it all, the subtext and Tolkien's ignorance of what he was doing, his pure Catholic brotherhood tale. It was clear, though, that Aragorn was a man of many loves, and it's all there inside Viggo, ready and waiting to be let out.

Orlando is waiting too, Viggo thinks, but doesn't dwell on it. The last day of filming, if the attraction doesn't wane, maybe then. Maybe. But Viggo doesn't need the excuse of alcohol, and he doesn't think even Orlando's mother herself, or even Henry, would blame him for running his fingers over Orlando's smooth olive skin and biting Orlando's perfect pointed mouth, and wanting to be perfectly sober for the experience.

  



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